2-2
Rocketman
God painted a stunningly beautiful sunset onto the sky as a small group of friends emerged from the Clik Clak diner. The small train car was barely able to hold all 7 of its passengers as they funneled out of it like a clown car.
"Holly shit, I'm stuffed." Casey groaned. The starved cat had managed to chew through almost an entire pizza in one sitting, and was starting to feel the consequences. "We gotta do this again sometime."
"Dude we gotta do this, like, tomorrow." Mae corrected.
"Yeah, we could make some noise I'd bet, just gotta get my drum kit and we're golden."
"But I don't have my guitar?" Gregg brought up.
"We're getting a new one for you, remember?" She answered.
"Awww, you guys are the best! Sorry, I forgot."
"It's been a while since I last sang." Angus admitted.
"Don't worry about it Capt'n, you'll sound great, trust me."
"I hope so."
"What am I gonna do with Casey back on drums?" Bea asked.
"We'll find something for you." He replied.
"I could just watch?" She suggested.
"We could watch together!" Germ piped in.
"Sure." They shrugged.
"What do you think, Lori?" Everyone turned to look at the girl in question, who was standing in the door frame with everyone else below her as if she was on a pedestal.
"Uh, sure?" She tentatively answered.
"Sweet!" Casey reached his arm up to her for a high five, and she gave him a nice and powerful smack back. "Woah, you hurt my hand with that one, nice."
"When should we meet then?" Gregg asked.
"How about 4?" Mae suggested, which was followed by a muted chorus of yeses and nodding.
"I guess everyone will be here then, hopefully."
"I still need to ask my dad if he's got any instruments." Lori said.
"Oh that reminds me, I found this big ol horn a while back!" Mae announced.
"Whaat?!" Gregg exclaimed as a grin grew on his face.
"You bet!" She waved her arms around like a child. "It was awesome! I went salvaging in the tunnels with Mr. Salvi, and that's where I found it."
"Duuuuuude! Why did you tell me?!" Gregg yelled as he flailed his arms around like trees in a hurricane.
"I don't know, I'm sorry!"
"Bet we could find you a new guitar that way, Gregg." Casey added.
"That would be epic." He replied
"Does he still do that?" Angus asked.
"No, he went missing, actually." She answered.
"Yeah, I wonder why." Casey set upon them the awkward silence to end all awkward silences. They all were staring at each other with strained looks and chapped lips.
"That dude was creepy." Bea admitted.
"Finally, someone said something!" Mae replied with her hands shot into the air, waving away the awkward atmosphere as she did so. "He really was."
"Good to know we all have respect for the dead here." Casey quipped just as the rumbling of a large truck could be heard. The silhouette of a Hummer H3 rolled into view, its deep matte black paint being the perfect camouflage in the dark.
"Geez, talk about gaudy." Gregg commented.
"Damnit, dad's here." Lori bemoaned.
"Your dad drives that thing?" Mae asked as she pointed at it with her thumb.
"Yup." She answered while weaving her way through the crowd to land on the sidewalk. The man's hulking SUV stood in stark contrast to its driver, a shell of a man who was held together with elmer's glue and popsicle sticks. He was dressed in a wrinkled suit shirt, bland tie hanging limply from his neck, with his slouched back making him look like a hunchback.
"Lori!" He said as he approached his daughter. "Oh, you had me worried sick, where were you?"
"Hanging out with my friends." She explained. Her father looked up and over at the small gaggle of young adults that stood near the Clik Clak with confusion.
"Shouldn't you be with kids that are more… your age?" He asked.
"Kids my age suck though." She explained.
"Preach!" Casey joked, and the father looked up at him. Their eyes made contact, and just for a moment he gleamed the emptiness in the mouse's eyes.
"Alright say goodbye now, we're going home."
"What?" She protested. "It's not even that late out!"
"You're going home now. Say goodbye to your… friends." Lori groaned at her father before turning around.
"Goodbye." She mumbled in an annoyed tone before going to the SUV as the rest of the gang said theirs.
"It was, uh, it was good meeting you kids…" He trailed off as he walked around to the driver's side door.
"Hey dad, do we have any instruments?" She asked.
"Umm, I'd have to think about it." He answered.
"It's OK dad, I know how much you hate doing that." The now flustered man scoffed and looked back at the main group.
"Do you guys get this kind of attitude from her or is it just me?" He asked while pointing to his daughter, and Casey let out a soft laugh.
"I wish she had that kinda attitude with us." He replied.
"Ah, so it is just me…" He sighed as he clambered into the truck before driving away.
"That guy was in the military?" Mae asked once they'd left.
"War does shit to people." The green bird explained. "You don't come back the same."
"That's, like, really wise." Gregg commented.
"Nah." He shook his head. "It's just a fact. I'd best be going now."
"Oh, well I'll see you later dude." Casey gave him a high five before they turned and left.
"Yeah, I'm leaving too, I gotta go find somewhere to stay for the night." Bea sighed.
"You can stay with me if you'd like." Mae offered.
"Oh thanks, that would be great." She smiled.
"Yeah, Casey is staying with me but you can crash on the couch."
"Hey Mae, Gregg?" The orange cat asked. "C'mere, I need to tell you something." The two in question looked at each other curiously, before following him until they were out of earshot of the others.
"Alright," He said once they gathered together. "There's something we gotta do."
"Do what?" Mae asked.
"Well, since I just got back and all, I thought it was appropriate that we have a little 'celebration' of sorts."
"Tell us!" Gregg demanded.
"We gotta do some crimes." There was an awkward pause, everyone exchanging looks before the fox spoke up.
"I'm really sorry man, I can't." He apologized.
"Yeah, me neither." Mae added.
"Awww, why not?"
"I've got responsibilities now, we all do."
"Me included."
"I heard you two sold out!" He accused them. "I'm very disappointed in you guys."
"Seriously, me and Angus are both working like 24-7 just to keep the house, and taking the time to see you isn't helping pay it off." He explained. "I can't afford getting in trouble, literally."
"OK, OK, fine. No crimes." The boy relinquished. There was a long pause as Gregg lowered his head in thought.
"One. I will do one." Gregg held up 1 finger, he couldn't help but give into his urges.
"Hell yeah my man." The two high fived each other. "And you, Mae?"
"Sure." She shrugged.
"That's what I'm talking about!" He gave her a high five as well.
"Just nothing too bad, please." The fox begged.
"I promise we won't do anything to get us arrested." He assured the group, which seemed to ease their worries somewhat.
"You'd better. We should put it to a vote." The fox replied.
"Yeah I like that idea." Mae added.
"We'll put it to a vote, but I don't want you guys suggesting we like jaywalk and that's it or something lame like that OK?" The trio giggled amongst themselves before they turned around and went back to the rest of the group. Gregg suddenly turned to his friend and gave them another hug.
"It was good seeing you Casey, we missed you so much." He said
"I missed you guys too." The orange cat replied as he hugged him back.
"Oh my god Bea, we're gonna have so much fun together." Mae said as she approached the tall crocodile, whose arms were crossed.
"Yeah, like old times."
"I'll see you, Angus." The orange cat waved him and his fiance goodbye with everyone else as they climbed into their car, before driving away into the night. Now it was just Mae, Bea and Casey.
"So, uh…" Bea uttered. "Do you wanna, like, go home with us or?" Home. That was something he hadn't thought of since he came back. He longed to go there, to climb into his own bed for the first time in years and just drift away.
"Yeah, I wanna go home."
"Alright then, let's blow this pop stand." Mae yipped, and the two girls turned around and began to stroll down the street.
"No, like, home home." They both stopped and turned around to find Casey still as a rock while looking back at them. "I want to go home."
The decrepit prison that Casey once called home stood in stark defiance of the aging suburbanite's paradise that surrounded it. When he was young he thought it was alive, how it moaned and creaked in pain during storms like a dying animal convinced him as such. The floods that had racked the town years prior certainly were no help to its age, only serving to exponentiate the rate at which it rotted away. Mae had sent Bea to her house while the two of them went to his.
"We're here." Mae said as Casey stared up at the building. It was only two stories tall, yet it felt like one hundred, his neck ached trying to get it all into view. It made him sick.
"Thanks, Mae." He said without shifting his gaze. "For being a good friend, I mean, you're fucking awesome." The girl in question smiled kindly at him.
"Aww thanks, so are you, dude." She giggled before hugging him, yet he was ambivalent, and a moment later she awkwardly pulled away. "I'll, uh, see you tomorrow then. Bye" She gave him a wave and began to leave.
"Did you ever actually go to my house? For playdates?" He spontaneously asked. She stopped and turned around, gazing at him with a confused expression.
"What do you mean?" She asked.
"We used to have playdates all the time, but they were always at your house or somewhere else. Doesn't that seem a little… weird to you?" He furrowed his brow while gazing through the house's windows.
"No," Mae immediately answered. "Maybe your parents didn't want to have a bunch of toddlers running around their place?"
"Maybe." An ominous wind whistled down the street and rustled both of the cats' hair.
"Casey, are you OK?" There was a short pause as the cat in question thought about it.
"Fuck no," He looked over at her and grinned. "it's fine though, we'll, uh… see what happens, I guess." They shrugged. "Sorry for being weird and distant and shit, my mind isn't working. Still all fuzzy, hazy I wanna say, like uh. I haven't, really… thought anything, said anything, done anything, or anythinged. The past two years, ish." He started to laugh, and a very concerned look spread across Mae's face.
"Are… are you gonna be alright?"
"Yepperoni." He lied. "I'll see you."
"OK, goodbye then." She hesitantly turned to leave, but Casey didn't want her to, he couldn't bear to be alone.
"Hey wait!" He cried out.
"Yeah?" He stopped, he couldn't find the courage to ask her to stay. So he just looked at her, longingly, before smiling.
"...Nevermind, it's fine. Sorry." He apologized.
"What is it?"
"Nothing, really, it's fine. I'll see you tomorrow, OK?" He shook his head.
"OK…" She turned around and walked away, leaving Casey alone with his thoughts. He watched her walk all the way down the street until she turned the corner out of view, and he felt his soul leave with her. Why did he want to do this anyways? He stood in solitude for several minutes, mind empty as he gazed at the house. His stomach wanted to be the same way apparently, he felt it churn and its contents flow back up his throat and expel themselves onto the concrete below. He hunched over and began to vomit his dinner onto the pavement, and it didn't stop until his breakfast had come up and he was dry heaving. When it finally stopped, he coughed and took several ragged breaths while wiping his mouth. He'd clean it up tomorrow.
Casey took another deep breath before working up enough courage to enter the belly of the beast. The inside of the house smelled absolutely putrid, the building reeked of age and rot and every inch of the living room was to the point of being nearly uninhabitable. He masked his face using his pink undershirt in an fruitless attempt to protect his sense of smell. The boy didn't dare take his shoes off as he crept through the old building, carefully examining it. He tried to flick the lights on but failed, the electricity must have been turned off. He couldn't tell if it was a miracle or a curse that no one had torn the old building down and sold everything that wasn't caked in mold.
He walked through the room and made his way up the stairs, where the bedrooms were. To his surprise the upstairs wasn't as bad as down below, only covered in dust and smelling of age rather than decay. His parents room was at the end of the hallway, and his was on the right. He opened the door, and for the first time he really felt like he was home.
His room was exactly the same as the day he'd left it, down to how his bed was made (or rather not made) that fateful morning. The walls were a deep blue color, the ceilings had popcorn styling, and in the center of the wall parallel to the door was a large window that moonlight peaked through. A "Death Classic" poster hung above his bed with a blue blanket crumpled atop, with his old skateboard leaning against the frame. Just across from it there was a desk with his oversized early 2000s laptop leaning against the footwell of his desk. On top of it was a small CRT from the 70s with a Dreamcast on top, both of which he'd managed to buy after countless hours of working more summer jobs than he could count. It took so long he had no time to enjoy it before school started again. Piled on top of the old fashioned cabinet closet that was against the back wall was a collection of plushies that he'd collected after years of "winning" rigged claw machines by using a technique called "mom's wallet".
Casey sighed, the tension leaving his body as he collapsed onto his bed. He wanted to fall asleep, and oh boy, was he going to. He let his mind turn to mush as he slowly drifted away into dreamland…
Only he couldn't.
He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, his body not finding peace. After what felt like a lifetime of fighting he finally gave in, he wasn't going to fall asleep in that bed. He slowly stood up, body aching, and exited his room and walked down the hall into his parents. Like his room it was surprisingly clean, as if it had been left unoccupied since he'd disappeared. Unlike his room it was doused in deep reds and dirt browns, and a large bed lay in the middle of the room with 2 twin bedside tables.
Casey sat down on the bed, and suddenly the TV parallel to him flicked on and began to broadcast a scene of a man and woman talking in a 50s style restaurant, which he immediately recognized as Pulp Fiction. He was startled by it, he had presumed the electricity was out. He looked down and realized he'd sat down on the TV remote, yet he decided to let the TV play the movie as he explored the master bedroom, something which he'd never been allowed to do. He cautiously opened the first drawer of his father's bedside table. There wasn't much there, but it was still an interesting experience nonetheless. He shut that door and went down to the second one, which was more of the same. Third time's the charm, and he stopped in his tracks.
It was a gun
An antique pistol lay in the middle of the drawer, its metal silver from being sanded. It beckoned for the young man, begging him to grab it, and he couldn't resist. He slowly wrapped his paw around the firearm and carefully brought it up to his face and began to examine it. It was surprisingly clean, his father must have kept up maintenance on it from what he could tell. He struggled to take the magazine out of the gun, once he did he saw that it was loaded, then slid it back into the gun. Without thinking, he stuffed it into his mouth, finger on the trigger. The metal had the flavor of blood. His tongue felt the inside of the barrel, its grooves almost tickled his flesh as he rubbed it up and down. He slowly closed his eyes and let his mind drift, the feeling of having a loaded gun placed in his mouth felt cathartic in a way words couldn't describe.
"That's not something you should be doing right now, Casey." The girl on the TV spoke. The cat in question nearly shot himself as he quickly yanked the gun out of his mouth and threw it to the ground, eyes glued to the television with Uma Thurman staring right back at him.
"She's right." The scene switched over to John Travolta's character, who was glaring at him with unnatural eyes. "It's very unhealthy, you could hurt yourself. Anyways, as you were saying?" He turned back to Uma and the conversation continued as if nothing happened.
Casey broke into a desperate sprint down the street as his mind raced, flying past buildings like how a jet zooms past clouds. He needed to talk to someone, anyone, just anyone, please, please I just need someone to listen to me, I don't care who, just someone please just listen to what's happening to me or I'm going to explode. He didn't stop running until his legs gave in and stopped working. His body collapsed and skid across the pavement by about a foot.
He lay there, hyperventilating for a moment until their breaths became more regular and they softly groaned while steadily standing back up. A massive scrape dragged along their left cheek from their jaw over his eye and all the way up to their forehead. It was especially bad on their eyebrow, to the point where you could see bone. The injury leaked blood down his face and dripped into his eye, yet he didn't even process the pain with the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He meekly looked up at the night sky, and was greeted by the "Video Outpost 'Too'" rocket. It stood tall above him, destined to never visit the stars above and instead be forced to sit there and watch them.
Had he really run that far? There was a moment of clarity in his brain, he knew exactly who would listen, a way to keep his head from exploding and painting the pavement red. He stood back up and ran all the way back home. He exploded through the front door, into his bedroom and lifted up the mattress of the bed and pulled out a small walkie talkie.
"Breaker Breaker this is Rocketman calling in!" He shouted into the speaker in between heavy breaths. "Do you copy?"
The Food Donkey, it was a damn shame that it shut down, but it had given him and his partner one good thing: A secret place to meet. Their spot used to be the Husker Bee Ballroom (or as he called it the Busker Bee Ballroom), which in his mind was the superior choice to this structure of a prior era. The night air was frigid, and he had to tightly wrap himself in his jacket to stay warm as he sat against the dead sliding doors. He heard the faint rumbling of an engine, and soon a VW golf rolled into the seemingly infinite parking lot. The faint moonlight was smothered by the bright lights of the car, and he had to cover his eyes until they were turned off. The figure of a crocodile cloaked in a dark green army jacket emerged from the car, it was Steve. Casey stood and wrapped himself around the crocodile, and they did the same. The two stood there, enveloped in each other's arms for a full minute, each softly crying.
"It's good to see you, Case." The crocodile uttered through tears.
"You too." He smiled softly.
"I like your, uh, jacket. That's a jacket right? It's hard to tell." He asked while sniffling.
"Thanks, it is." The couple slowly let go of one another and sat down against the doors to the Food Donkey. His eyes went wide when he got a better look at the cat.
"Casey, w…" He really was at a loss for words, looking his skeletal body over. "What happened to you?"
"Tripped and fell earlier today, got this scar here." He pressed his finger to his cheek, expecting the sting of touching an open wound, yet didn't feel it.
"You look like you haven't eaten in a year."
"I haven't eaten in two, actually." He quipped. The two stared at each other in silence for a moment, before the crocodile spoke up.
"Are you OK?" He asked.
"No, I'm pretty fucking far from OK." The smile fell from his face.
"Where have you been?"
"Do you want the normal sounding answer or the one that makes me sound like I'm schizophrenic?" He asked.
"I want the real one." Casey gulped and looked his partner directly in the eyes.
"Do you really want to know?" He asked, not to Steve but to himself.
"Yes." The cat sighed, and rubbed his eyes. He felt some of the blood that had gathered there get onto his fist and he looked down at it.
"I didn't run away, some people might have said that." He explained.
"I never believed it, you would have told me."
"I didn't think you would to be honest." He paused and took a deep breath. "I was actually kidnapped." The crocodile's mouth fell agape.
"Oh my god…" He muttered.
"It was a cult, actually, like a full blown fuckin cult with creepy robes and shit. I was out on the tracks, just wanted somewhere quiet to get a hit, y'know? Next thing I remember I'm riding down this mine shaft elevator, surrounded by these cult dudes." He was starting to struggle to get the words out now. "They, took me down and there was this, big-big hole in the middle of the floor." He started to hyperventilate. "T-they stripped me naked, it was so fuckin cold down there, y'know? And I started to yell scream for help but nothing happened they just fucking stood there a-andIstartedtocry-" Steve softly wrapped his hands around the cats' and he stopped.
"Stop, just breathe, OK?" He whispered.
"F-fffuck, I-" He started to cry again, and Steve gave the boy a hug, which only made him more emotional. He returned the crocodile's hug and began to cry into his shoulder as his body quivered and shook.
"If you don't want to tell me that's fine, I'm here for you either way."
"No, no I need to get this out or I'll die. Please." They sat together, holding each other in their arms for what seemed like hours, until the cat pulled away and continued. "They threw me down there, and I thought I'd hit solid ground and I'd just die but I never did, I just kept falling in the dark. It wasn't dark for long though," He turned his head and gazed out into space. "I could see stars and nebulas and shit, and it was beautiful. It was, it was beautiful, like space but… more." His arms slowly reached out into the sky, shaking and quivering. His eyes were glazed over and were just as beautiful as what he was describing.
"Then what happened?" Steve asked, he couldn't help but be curious.
"No, I can't." His body was shaking uncontrollably by now, tears streaming down his boney cheeks. Steve was holding onto him tight, comforting him and holding his shoulders. "I-I'm not ready for that I don't think, this has been… plenty good, it's been great, it has." He gulped. "Thank you for listening." Casey's spell was lifted, he turned his head to look his boyfriend in the eyes as his arms went back down to his sides.
"Thank you for telling me." He replied, mind racing. "Did you recognise anyone who was in that cult?" He was asking this, of course, because he had a baseball bat with their name on it. The boy meekly shook his head no.
"When I came back I stayed with Mae, I thought it was done but… it's not." He continued. "I was sent back here for a reason. I don't know why really, but I think they want me to bring more people down there, more sacrifices. But I-I took a page from your book and I'm going to let them go fuck themselves." He chuckled.
"That's my boy." He smiled.
"But… It's not just gonna call it a day, no. Something's coming, something big, and if I'm right then I'm going to need all the help I can get." He inched closer to Steve. "I want you to help me fight it, if it ever comes to that."
"Yes." He was surprised at how easy the answer came to him, but he shouldn't have been.
"Thank you." He smiled. "There's other things, too. I've been seeing weird stuff, man, like when I got home I turned the TV on and the people there were talking to me. Like, me."
"The TV talked to you?"
"Yeah."
"What did they say?"
"Does it matter? They fucking talked to me, used my name and everything. And this wasn't some interactive bullshit like it's fucking Dora the Explora or whatever, it was Pulp Fiction! Pulp Fiction!"
"What's Pulp Fiction?"
"How…" He trailed off, but dropped the subject. "Nevermind. Thank you for listening."
"If anything happens, you can tell me, OK hun?" He patted his back, and the boy softly nodded. Being with Steve, when he was being himself anyways, made him feel complete.
"Can I go home with you?" He softly asked.
"I still live with my dad, remember?" Of course he remembered that bastard, it was hard to forget him. If he died in the morning the world would be a better place, and Steve would be a better man, too.
"Oh, yeah." He sighed as he looked up at him. "Can you drive me home then?"
"No living being can exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality for long, even katydids are said by some to dream." Casey uttered as he mindlessly stared out the window of Steve's car.
"What?" The vehicle's owner asked.
"It's the opening line from a book I read once, don't remember the name." They continued to drive silently through the dimmed streets, until Steve parked in front of the cat's house.
"Alright, we're here." He said. The cat stared out the window and at his house, and a pit opened up in his stomach.
"Wait." He held his hand up to stop him.
"What's wrong?" They asked.
"Can you drive me to Mae's house instead?" Steve gave him a concerned look.
"If she sees me with you she'll probably kill me."
"You'll be fine, you're Steve. And besides, she's not as ferocious as you'd think." The crocodile chuckled.
"Go tell that to Andy Cullen." He said while putting the car into gear.
"Are you afraid of death, Stevie?" The crocodile was taken aback by the statement, and he really hoped that this wasn't in response to his Andy comment.
"Uh, yeah? Who isn't? It's a wise thing to be afraid of, I'd say." He replied. "Are you not?"
"I don't know." They continued to drive in silence until they finally arrived.
"We're here, again." He said.
"Thanks, Stevie, I don't know what I'd do without you." Casey said without breaking his gaze out the window.
"You too." The cat looked back and smiled before he stepped out of the car and began to walk up to Mae's front door.
"Hey wait!" He turned around to see his partner approaching. "Do you want to hang out Monday night? My dad's going out of town then, we'd have the place to ourselves."
"Hmmm, are you free tomorrow?" He asked in a coy tone.
"I think so?"
"Then… we can maybe hang out tomorrow and Monday?" The two locked eyes, Casey looking up at him with his hands behind his back like a girl, and for a moment they just stared at each other longingly. Then Casey took a step forward and kissed him on the lips, only for the other boy to pull away.
"Eugh, Jesus Christ what the hell is on your mouth?" He groaned.
"Oh sorry, I, uh, I threw up earlier." The crocodile looked at him, eyes wide and face contorted in disgust.
"Why the fuck didn't you tell me! Fuck!" He wiped his lips then wiped his hands on the grass.
"I forgot." He answered in shame.
"Ugh, fucking hell, that was the worse kiss I've ever gotten."
"It's the only kiss you've ever gotten." He joked.
"It's the only puke kiss I've ever gotten." They groaned.
"Sorry." The cat apologized.
"It's fine, just wash your mouth out next time, OK?" He looked back, and his expression seemed to soften as he looked at the cat, who was giving him puppy-dog eyes.
"OK." They said as Steve went back to the car and into the and pulled out a bottle of water.
"Here, you can wash your mouth out with that if you want." He said.
"Sorry." He apologized before doing what he suggested before spitting onto the grass, then whipping his mouth.
"Do you wanna try again?" He asked.
"Oh, uh, no it's fine. Really." The cat blushed.
"I can see your face, hun." Casey's face only turned a brighter shade of red, and Steve went in for the kill. He wrapped his arms and his lips around the boy, and he accepted it wholeheartedly, to the point where he lifted his left leg up as they kissed. He melted into Steve's embrace, feeling the muscles on his back as he pressed against his chest. They both pulled away and looked into each other's eyes, basking in the afterglow.
"Did… did you lift your leg?" Steve asked.
"Shut up."
"You did, you cutie." He grinned as he boop-ed him on the nose. "I have to go now, or else that curfew will get us in trouble." He unwrapped himself from Casey, who felt noticeably colder now that he was gone.
"Oh, right." He sighed. "I'll see you on Monday then." He said while he softly waved goodbye.
"See you Monday, Case." Steve gave him a smile and a wave before clambering back into his car and driving off into the night. He watched him go until he turned the corner and was out of sight, then turned around and walked up to the front door. He knocked thrice, and after around a minute of waiting he heard someone heading downstairs before the door was flung open and he was greeted with a groggy as all hell Bea.
"Casey? What the hell are you doing here? It's, like, 2 am or something." She exaggerated.
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you not at your place?" She asked.
"I couldn't stay there. Is Mae awake?" He asked.
"Nope, just me."
"Oh, OK. Would Mae be OK if I sleep here with you guys?" She considered it for a moment, before continuing.
"Yeah, she'd be OK with it, couch is free"
"Thanks, dude."
"Mhm." She held the door open for him and he walked through it, and was once more welcomed by the house.
"Hey Bea?" He asked. "Do you have earbuds or a music player or anything?"
"No, why?"
"It uh, it helps me fall asleep. Thanks anyways."
"Mhm. Goodnight Casey." She turned and walked up the stairs, leaving him alone. He coughed lightly before turning the TV on and turning it to the music channel. He turned the volume down as soft melodies played from its aged speakers. Exhausted, Casey collapsed onto the couch and
End
Good evening. I put a hole in my door, I'm going to Iceland tomorrow, and as per usual I'm a lazy ass bitch. And because I probably won't have an internet connection while there, and if I do I'll be using my school PC which doesn't have access to this site, chances are there will be no new content next week. I'm holding out hope though, the plane ride is 12 hours so I could get shit done and post it Sunday. We'll see!